


Nothing but Stars

by mxartbotboy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Battle Banter, Clone bonding, Cody puts up with a lot, Cody with a lightsaber, Codyweek2021, First Times, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Mild recreational drug use, Nightmares, Post Order 66, Post-Umbara, canon-compliant off-screen character death mention, clone pals, force-sensitive cody, fun at 79s, night out, real mix in here this week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-20
Packaged: 2021-03-21 10:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30020193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mxartbotboy/pseuds/mxartbotboy
Summary: It was just starting to get dark out when Cody stepped into the wide paved walkway just outside the clone barracks. The air had a slight chill to it, like it always did in the winter season, and Cody pulled off his helmet to feel the fresh air on his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath.A collection of short oneshots for Commander Cody Week 2021. Each chapter title is that day’s theme and the specific prompt chosen for each is in the chapter summary.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody & Original Clone Trooper Character(s), CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 33
Kudos: 144





	1. Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cody bonding with his brothers

The mess wasn’t as busy this time of evening; most of the troopers had already had their dinner and gone off by the time Cody finished his work. He’d almost not gone down, but words and numbers were swimming before his eyes from reports, and he wasn’t exactly keen on the field rations he kept stashed in his quarters. So down to the mess he had gone. The food wasn’t much better, but it would be warm, and he could have a cup of caf as well.

Standing with tray in hand, Cody regarded the tables before him, calculating his move. Most were empty, with a few troopers scattered here and there. The only ones he recognized were Boil and Waxer in the corner, but they had their heads tipped in to each other and seemed to be involved in some sort of conversation. Alone it would be, which Cody didn’t necessarily mind. Some quiet time to let his mind untangle would go good.

With a tired sigh, Cody made his way to one of the empty tables, sliding in with a soft clatter from his tray. He pulled off his helmet and set it down next to him, the visor staring sullenly at his slightly grey stew and dry slice of bread. But the caf was hot and Cody lifted the cup to his lips, letting the scent wash over him. It had been a long day of meetings and requisitions and more meetings, as they made their way back to Coruscant for a slight reprieve. Slight, because they never got more than a week before they were deployed again, barely rested and with a new batch of shinies.

Cody grimaced into his stew. The 212th had been running ragged for the last two campaigns now. Everyone was feeling the losses, moreso when squads were operating with half their men and platoons barely filling their marching arrays. It was sobering to think about all the white helmets that would be fleshing out their ranks soon. Cody pushed that thought aside, though. He’d already mourned his brothers marching on ahead and he didn’t need it to consume him again.

The mess was suddenly interrupted by a boom of voices. Cody looked up, swishing the mouthful of bland stew around in his mouth and swallowed.

“You’re buying drinks!” Lowball laughed loudly, slapping Diz heartily on the back as they grabbed some trays. The pilot’s shoulders slumped, trailing along behind Lowball and Overheard, who went up to serve themselves some food. The rest of what they were saying was lost as they quieted down, but their energy seemed to fill the mess. Cody ducked his head, hoping they wouldn’t notice him.

“Commander!”

Cody looked up and forced a smile as Lowball slapped his tray down in front of him with a large grin, “Glad to see you out and about, we’d begun to think you’d died of boredom from all those reports.”

“Leave the man alone,” Overhead interjected, sitting next to his batchmate, “It’s not like he has a whole corps to run or anything.”

“A man has to get out and about though. Keeps the mind sharp.” Lowball dug into his stew with an eagerness that was unwarranted for the subpar food. With a low grumble, Diz slipped in next to Cody, taking off his helmet with a glum expression.

Mentally sighing, Cody bit, “What’s got you down this time, trooper?”

“Oh,” Lowball jumped in, mouth full, “You should have seen it sir, Overhead was incredible.”

“No one asked you,” Diz said, glaring at the other clone as he grabbed at his cup of caf, “I’d like to see you try and take on Overhead.”

Lowball shook his head, “No way, I know better, eh Overhead?” He elbowed Overhead, who waved his hand.

“If you sparred more then, it wouldn’t be a problem now would it?”

It wasn’t that Cody didn’t like the two most outspoken members– plus Overhead– of Falcon Squad. They were good men, good at their jobs, and tight knit. He’d gotten to know them well, as he often personally took on Falcon Squad alongside Waxer and Sixty. It was just that they spent an awful amount of time _talking_ and Cody wasn’t much up for that much of the time. Still, it did warm him that they had come over. Sometimes the other troopers were intimidated by him and wouldn’t do more than come over briefly for a obligatory greeting before sitting at their own tables. Such was the life of a Field Marshal Commander. But Lowball and Overhead had never had reservations about him, and once Diz had been brought into the fray, it was like three tookas who followed him around at every opportunity.

Taking another spoonful of stew, Cody tuned himself back in to the conversation;

“–then that final flip Overhead? That was brilliant!”

Diz tore a piece of his bread and tossed it at Lowball, hitting him right between the pair of yellow stripes running down the middle of his chest plate, “Can we _not_ have a full on play-by-play?”

“Sounds like Diz needs some more time in the training rooms,” Cody said, swirling a piece of his own bread in his stew.

Diz quickly turned in his seat, his eyes wide, “Sir, I promise I am filling the required amount of hours in–”

“At ease,” Cody interrupted, pointing his dipped bread over the table, “Overhead is the best hand-to-hand combatant in the platoon, don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Best in the whole battalion I’d say!”

“Shut up, Lowball,” Overhead grumbled, “Or I’ll pin you to the mat next.”

Slowly, Cody felt his shoulders ease. He hadn’t realized how isolated he’d been these past few days. He couldn’t even remember the last proper conversation he’d had that wasn’t work related. The chatter from, mostly Lowball, was loud, but it was comforting to be surrounded by his men, even if he mostly sat and listened. It was often like that anyways, and none of them ever minded. Eventually, Boil and Waxer overheard Lowball ribbing on Diz and came over to join the fun, trays in hand and buckets under their arms.

“Screwy take a beating, huh?” Boil chuckled, leaning over Diz with a wolfish grin.

Diz knocked his knuckles into Boil’s stomach, “Lay off, I told you to stop calling me that.”

“I will when you paint something on your armour other than spirals.” Boil pushed in next to Diz and Lowball and Overhead scooted over for Waxer. Diz spluttered, trying to spit out a defense for the wild designs he had painted in 212th yellow all over himself, but was overrun by laughter from the others. It was a good sound to hear and Cody smiled to himself, taking another sip of caf.

“Hey, Commander?”

Cody looked up, raising his eyebrows at Waxer. The man had rested his elbows on the table and was leaning forward with interest, “Any idea how long we’ll be planetside for?”

All eyes turned to him and Cody cleared his throat, setting down his cup.

“Well, we’ll need time to get the requisitions sorted, and to settle in the new shinies.” His gaze drifted from Overhead to Diz, and then across to Waxer, “A few days, at least.” He knew they had been hoping the answer would be longer, but it was the best he could offer without making promises.

The silence that had fallen over the group was quickly broken by Lowball, who shifted his eyes from Overhead to Cody, “Want to join us at 79s for drinks? They’re on Diz.”

Bristling, Diz sat forward, “Hey, you said just for you and Overhead!”

“I put up with you enough that you _owe_ me a drink at this point,” Boil muttered, shoving some stew into his mouth, and at that Overhead cracked a rare smile. The rest of the meal fell into general chatter about what the men would get up to in their few precious days off with the meagre credits and chits they received as pay. Cody mostly listened, his stew long finished and the dregs of his caf gathered in the bottom of his cup. It wasn’t until Diz started yawning that they noticed the time, and Cody stood.

“Back to your quarters, the lot of you,” he said, “Before poor Diz has to take any more from you _di’kute_.”

Low laughs circled around the table and the men said their goodnights, all straggling off in a group out of the mess after dumping their trays in the cleaning disposal. Cody hung around for a few more moments, refilling his cup with some more caf for the road. The trooper behind the serving counter, a lanky man named Badger, gave Cody a small smile as he handed back the filled cup, “That your squadron, sir?”

Cody nodded, glancing off towards the door, “Yeah. Some of the best in the battalion. Aside from present company, of course.”

Badger grinned and gave a wink, wiping his hands on his apron, “Of course, sir. Best in the battalion.”

Cody gave a last nod to Badger before leaving the mess. The halls of the _Negotiator_ were quiet now, having transitioned into the nighttime skeleton crew. Despite the low hum of the ship, though, Cody could still hear the voices of his troopers in his mind. Tired, ready for a break, but cheerful despite everything. His men. Best in the battalion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr at mxartbotboy, come say hi!


	2. Origins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: First time meeting Obi-Wan

“Kriff,” Cody swore, lowering his macrobinoculars.

“I take it that’s bad news then?” Sixty asked, walking up next to Cody where he was standing behind the barrier they had set up.

“You could say that.”

Cody hated jungle planets. They were hot and humid and sweat would creep into every corner of armour and fold of cloth. The bugs were a menace and the wildlife would be as much a problem as the droids half the time. They had spent the half the morning clearing out a herd of some kind of horned creature who seemed intent on trying to trample the line they had set up along the jungles edge. Only now were they able to regroup enough to get a sense of the settlement the droids were occupying. And it didn’t look good.

Cody handed the macrobinoculars to Sixty, “Assault cannons. Three of them. They’ll take us out if we try to advance beyond the tree line.”

Sixty peered for a moment, seeing what Cody had seen, before lowering them with a sigh, “ _Haar’chak_.” He turned to Cody, “What about Spectre Company? They might not have cannons ‘round the other side.”

Cody nodded, “Let’s hope.” He opened up a comm link to Spectre’s commander. The line was crackly and it took a second to connect, but a voice came through, sharp and low.

_Commander Flip, reporting_.

“Flip, what’ve you got on the scope there? We’ve got a line of assault cannons keeping us back.”

There was a pause where Flip asked something, unintelligible over the comm. Cody flexed his hand impatiently, feeling a drop of sweat crawl down his forehead and settle into his eyebrow.

_No sir, no cannons on our end_.

Cody breathed a sigh of relief, “Good to hear. We’ll have to change the plan, have Spectre Company head the assault from the rear. We’ll try to–” Cody paused when he saw his vambrace flash, indicating that another comm was coming through, “Hang on Commander.” Cody switched the lines, wondering who it could be, “Cody here.”

_Call for some air support, brother?_ Rex’s voice came cheerily over the comm and Cody frowned, shaking his head.

“I thought you weren’t due until tomorrow.”

_Well, we’re here early. Just coming up on the settlement now_.

Panic shot up through Cody’s stomach and he whirled around, grabbing the macrobinoculars from Sixty and whipping them up. Just as Rex said, four LAARis were zooming in, closing on the settlement fast. The droids had clearly gotten the message; Cody could see troop movements near the entrance and the cannons shifted as they were powered up.

“Negative, do not approach, we’ve got assault cannons here!” Cody said hurriedly, waving to Sixty, “Get the walkers ready, we might need a distraction.”

An unfamiliar voice echoed in the comm, a questioning tone to the garbled words, and Rex responded, _Uh, I think we’ll be taking care of those_.

“You _think_?” Cody hissed, “Captain, those cannons will take you out before you’re even halfway to the landing point.”

_Trust me, Commander, we’ll be fine. Just be ready to go_. Before Cody could respond, the comm clicked silent. Cursing to himself, Cody strode down the line, weaving through the trees to the group of walkers that were nestled behind the line. Troopers swarmed around their feet, climbing in and powering them on. Cody caught Diz halfway through the top of one before he disappeared, and he sent a silent wish for the trooper to stay safe.

Waxer came jogging up, blaster out of his holster. “Company is ready to march on your orders, sir,” he said, stopping next to Cody. Nerves bundled at the pit of Cody’s stomach, still concerned about the impending approach from Torrent’s air support, but he nodded, holding up a hand.

“On my mark we’ll head out, just enough so we can get a clear shot at those cannons. Hopefully that’ll draw enough fire from the air support.”

“Air support, sir?”

Cody gave Waxer a side glance, “Wasn’t my karking idea.” Gripping the macrobinoculars tightly, Cody made his way to the front of the line again, crouching behind a bush and poking his head out just enough that he could get a clear view of the settlement. The LAARis were much closer now, one pulling forward of the four and swooping down low. Just as Cody feared, the cannons were turning, preparing to aim at the incoming gunships. He held up a hand, waiting to see if they would change their minds and turn off before they got in range. Even protected by the line of trees, they’d be giving away their position if they had to engage and Cody wanted to avoid that if possible.

Suddenly, though, the lead ship broke off, flying down low nearly over the cannons and a small dot leapt from the side of the ship. In shock, Cody looked through the macrobinoculars again, just barely catching the glow of something bright blue before what was clearly a figure landed on one of the cannons. It slid down the side, moving at an impossible speed until it disappeared behind the walls of the settlement.

“Sir?” Waxer asked, clearly waiting for the order to shoot. Cody lowered his hand. The ships were in range, but the cannons weren’t shooting, curiously. A trail of smoke began curling up from the walls of the settlement, and the cannon the figure had slid down jerked before freezing in its turn cycle completely. The second one next to it stopped as well, before shaking and then tipping completely to the side. The figure came _flying_ back up above the wall, scaling the third cannon up to the top where blue flash again, and again. There was a moment of stillness, and then a small explosion from the third cannon, smoke billowing up in thick, dark clouds.

“What in the karking hells was that, sir?” Waxer asked. Cody wished he knew and he lowered the macrobinoculars, watching the four LAARis zoom overhead to the landing point a kilometre back. Unscathed, and with all three cannons disabled. Cody quickly opened the comm again to Flip, “Commander, hold your position, change of plans. Again.”

_Something to do with the smoke, sir_? Flip sounded as puzzled as Cody was.

“Just hold your position. Cody out.”

Cody was about to dial up Rex again and ask what the kriff just happened, when Waxer lifted a finger, pointing, “Sir, do you see that?”

Squinting towards the settlement, Cody saw movement again, and for the third or fourth time he looked through the macrobinoculars. “Might as well be watching a holo,” he muttered to himself, focussing the viewfinder. Through it, he found what Waxer had been pointing at; a single speeder racing towards them. Riding it was a man with a shock of ginger hair and cream coloured robes billowing out behind him as he sped across the grassy field.

Cody dropped the macrobinoculars down, “It’s a karking Jedi.” He didn’t hear the sigh from Waxer next to him, but he saw it in the way that the troopers shoulders moved. It was a common reaction amongst the men, and the crazy actions now made sense in retrospect. Insane, every last one of them, Cody had always thought, and he had been glad for the brief respite from a Jedi General where he could enact normal, _regular_ , campaigns. It looked like that stint had run out, though.

With a contained groan, Cody signalled for the company to stand down, at least for now. The disarming of the cannons would leave the droids in enough disarray that they could wait until the support from Torrent grouped with them for a proper attack. In the meanwhile, Cody thought as he watched the Jedi pull up and then slip into the tree line, he could find out who this crazy karker was.

The Jedi swung off the stolen speeder, brushing a hand through his hair and not looking a single fold out of place. If Cody hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed for a second that this man had singlehandedly taken down three assault cannons. He clipped his macrobinoculars to his hip and approached, steeling himself.

“Commander Cody reporting, sir!” he said, standing to attention. The Jedi looked up, sparkling bright blue eyes boring straight through Cody’s visor. He had a neatly trimmed beard and already a smirk growing on his lips as he brushed down his robes.

“Commander, at ease,” the Jedi said. Cody folded his arms behind him, nodding.

“Nice work out there, sir, if you don’t mind me saying.”

The Jedi looked over his shoulder back at the settlement and shrugged, “Not my usual approach, but it seemed necessary.”

“Very good, sir.”

And then, in an uncharacteristic move, the Jedi held out a hand towards Cody, tilting his head, “I suppose I should introduce myself. Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

Regarding the hand held out to him, Cody glanced up– not quite suspiciously, but not fulling trusting either– before he reached out to grip it in a small but firm shake, “Will you be joining for the rest of the campaign, sir?”

Obi-Wan grinned and shook his head, “I’m afraid it’s worse than that Commander. I’ve just been assigned to the Third Systems Army.” He released Cody’s hand, and looked around, as if he suddenly had noticed the not-so-subtle attention of the surrounding troopers. Buckets quickly turned away as his gaze swept over them, busying themselves as if they hadn’t been watching. Obi-Wan raised a single eyebrow and looked back over to Cody, “I’ve heard Ghost Company is the best of the battalion?”

Cody gave a sharp nod, “You won’t find better men in my opinion, sir.”

“Splendid.” Obi-Wan leaned forward, a conspiratorial look on his face, “I look forward to working together, Commander Cody.”

There was a glint in his eye that Cody didn’t like. Karking Jedi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr at mxartbotboy, come say hi!


	3. Valor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Wielding a lightsaber; switching weapons

Fighting with Obi-Wan was different than when Cody fought with his fellow troopers. Sure, he and his squad trained together night and day, learning each other’s movements as their own, but with Obi-Wan it was _different_. It was almost as if the Jedi knew where Cody was going to be before even Cody himself knew, sliding under and over his blaster and swinging his lightsaber in crescent arcs just as Cody dived down. Perfect, synchronous, together. It was always like that, and it was like that now.

The company was making good progress on the desert encampment that surrounded the Separatist mining facility they were advancing on. It was an all-out firefight on the ground, with troops scattered about in skirmishes with the oncoming droids. As per usual, Obi-Wan had separated from the group almost immediately to dive into the fray, lightsaber glowing in the dusty air like a beacon of light as he slashed droid after droid. And as per usual, Cody had cursed the insufferable Jedi for getting himself nearly surrounded by droids with no back up, again. Blasting away the head of a battle droid and then elbowing a second as it ran up to his left side, Cody fought his way towards the swinging arcs of blue. Most of the droids’ attention was on Obi-Wan, and with a kick, he sent another droid flying and was able to fall through the circle into the centre alongside his General.

“Ah, Cody!” Obi-Wan called out, only a hint of breathlessness in his tone as he deflected bolt after bolt, “How nice of you to join me!”

“Wouldn’t miss it, sir!” Cody yelled back, turning his blaster on the surrounding droids. Back to back, he and Obi-Wan fought, slowly thinning out the herd and making steady progress towards the mining facility. It was too soon to be hopeful, but Cody was feeling good. Clankers were falling, the company was advancing, and he was here exactly where he wanted to be, with Obi-Wan. A stray blaster bolt scorched the ground by his feet and Cody dove to the side in a roll, hearing the buzz of the lightsaber over his head as Obi-Wan deflected the follow up shot. Pulling himself out of it, Cody found himself nearly face to face with a B2. With a cry, Cody slammed the butt of his blaster into the droid to knock it back a few steps and then fired two neat shots straight into it’s chest. The droid sputtered to the ground in a satisfying heap of metal and wires, and Cody was just about to turn back to Obi-Wan when two hard arms grabbed him and swung. Lifting off the ground, Cody tried to get an angle on the droid, but was in too close quarters. The world spun a little and then Cody was being thrown, tossed through the air like a sack of Corellian potatoes. There was a small yelp of surprise and then Cody collided with something malleable, collapsing beneath him with the force of the throw. His blaster was tossed from his hand and Cody took a second to reorient himself, his body screaming with the impact.

Limbs tangled with limbs and Cody struggled to his knees, ignoring the grunts from Obi-Wan next to him. Instinct had him scrambling out to find his blaster, the dust kicked up from his landing blinding him temporarily. But it was the only thing keeping him safe from the droids and it would settle quickly. Sweeping his fingers across the ground, Cody closed them on something that resembled the grip of a blaster and he lunged to his feet, whipping his hand up to point–

A lightsaber. Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. Cody paused only for a second before his thumb found the switch, the ‘saber blazing to life in his hand. It hummed, but it was light, and Cody charged before he could think about what he was doing. Fight and survive. He swung the ‘saber, slicing through two droids and nearly toppling himself with the force of his own swing. The weapon barely weighed anything, with no end weight at all and Cody had to rebalance himself before cutting through the next droid. It was by no means elegant, his fighting full of slashes and jabs, but it got the job done as long as he stayed close enough to the droids they couldn’t shoot him. It wasn’t long before suddenly the droids thinned out substantially, Cody breaking through the line of them to empty desert. The last clanker fell to the ground, cut in two, and Cody stood there, panting. The lightsaber still hummed in his hands in almost a soothing manner, and with a straighten of his shoulders, Cody switched it off. The humming cut out abruptly, leaving his hand feeling too still.

He turned, eyes searching for Obi-Wan, when something flickered in the corner of his eye. He whirled around to see a B2 coming at him, but the droid was too far for the ‘saber to reach. Time slowed, Cody’s hand moving to switch the ‘saber on, knowing that he wouldn’t be fast enough, knowing that the B2’s arm was already raised and ready to shoot him. The blast might not kill him, but he didn’t know if his armour would hold out at this range and he sucked in a long breath, bracing himself.

There was a flash of light and a blaster bolt shot straight through the B2, toppling it to the ground. Cody blinked, staring at the downed droid, before looking up. Obi-Wan stood there, hair a mess and robes covered in dust, pointing Cody’s blaster to where the droid had been. His face was creased with some kind of fury, a look Cody had hardly ever seen on his General. The moment passed, though, and Obi-Wan lowered the blaster, his face smoothing out. His eyes found Cody’s and he gave an easy smile, “Nothing to it, right Commander?”

Cody shook his head, stepping forward, “Yes, sir.” He held out the lightsaber towards Obi-Wan, “I believe this is yours.”

“Yes, thank you, dear.” Obi-Wan plucked the ‘saber hilt from Cody’s hand and then paused, the _dear_ hanging in the air between them like the particles of dust did now. Obi-Wan’s eyes met Cody’s, slightly wider than usual, as if he were expecting to hear some sort of reprimand. As if Cody would ever; but Obi-Wan didn’t know that. 

Cody cleared his throat, gesturing down at the blaster, “If you wouldn’t mind, sir.”

“Oh, yes.” Obi-Wan returned the blaster to Cody, a slight touch of red to his cheeks, “Certainly does the trick when needed.”

“Indeed,” Cody replied drily, checking the blaster before holstering it, “Shall we continue on, sir?”

“Yes.” Coughing, Obi-Wan started forward, turning his attention to the mining facility, “Yes, let’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr at mxartbotboy, come say hi!


	4. Post-Order 66

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Nightmares; regrets

A long white hall stretches out. No doors, bright lights beaming overhead. Cody isn’t wearing his armour and he reaches up to his chest, hoping to feel something there. All he touches is fabric, his bare fingers soft in the folds and he turns. Where is the exit?

“CC-2224.” A Kaminoan looms tall over Cody, enough that he has to crane his neck to meet the gaze of the cloner. She holds out a hand, gesturing down the hall, staring down unblinkingly, “Please, this way.”

“Where are you taking me?” Cody’s voice sounds distant and foggy, like he’s hearing himself underwater, but the Kaminoan ignores him, striding past smoothly. Cody’s body automatically follows, jerky and stiff as he walks behind her. He tries to turn his head to look at the walls, for a door, any way out, but it feels like something is holding his head forward. More and more, Cody tries to break free of whatever is holding him, forcing him to follow the Kaminoan down this long hall, but it seems like the more he resists, the harder the hold grows, until his chest is so restricted he can barely breathe.

Finally, the Kaminoan stops, the hall ending suddenly and abruptly in a round door. She steps aside, holding out her arm again, “Through here for decommissioning, please.”

Decommissioning? Cody desperately tries to shake his head no, to step backwards, but his body betrays him, instead moving closer until the round door slides open, revealing a small meeting room. The walls are curved and white, and it seems to glow even brighter than the hallway, bright enough that Cody can hardly see. He squints into the room, trying to make out anything at all, something to tell him what was going on. And there, sitting in one of the Kaminoans hanging chairs, is Obi-Wan, brown robes draping elegantly around his legs.

“Sir,” Cody says, finally regaining control of his voice, “Sir, they can’t decommission me.” He hates how his voice cracks, desperate and pleading at the horrible thought of being decommissioned. Obi-Wan merely gives a toothy smile and shakes his head, his lips moving but the words unintelligible. Cody strains to hear them, tries to focus on the movements of Obi-Wan’s mouth, but he can’t tell what the Jedi is saying. Obi-Wan gestures to the tea set on the table in front of him, picking up the delicate floral painted pot and beginning to pour a cup. The tea is a bright red and Obi-Wan looks up, continuing to speak silently as he pours.

Cody is panicking. He needs to find the exit, but he can’t get his head to turn and look for one. Obi-Wan is still smiling and the tea cup begins to overflow, red liquid pouring out into the saucer, across the table and splashing onto the floor.

“Obi-Wan!” Cody shouts, though his voice still sounds distant and quiet. The room is filling with tea, sloshing around Cody’s ankles and staining the walls pink. Taking a jerky step forward, Cody tries reaching out towards Obi-Wan, but everything is too bright and fuzzy and Obi-Wan is _still_ smiling, although the closer Cody looks, the more he sees with growing horror the wounds criss crossing his Jedi’s face. Dirt smears across his cheek and one eye is bruised. His robes shred themselves before Cody’s eyes, and _why is Obi-Wan still smiling?_

The tea is up to Cody’s chest now, lapping and soaking through his shirt. Obi-Wan is nearly submerged now, the top of his smiling face peering ominously from the liquid quickly filling the room. Cody needs to get out, _now_. He jerks around, limbs feeling sluggish, and finally see the door out, catching the familiar flash of lightning through the transparisteel that regularly lit up the Kaminoan skies. He wades through the tea, the level up to his neck now, his movements clumsy and slow. The room stretches out, the door growing farther and farther away as Cody tries to get closer. He’s now swimming through the tea, choking on mouthfuls of bitter flavour that sink to the back of his throat. He tries to call out to Obi-Wan again, but his words come out slurred and thick, mixed with the heavy splashing of tea all around him. The door is so far away and Cody begins to sink, his vision going red and hazy. Obi-Wan’s face appears before him, eye a bright cold blue, mouth moving in words that Cody can’t understand, he can’t understand, _what is Obi-Wan saying_ –

Cody woke up with a sharp gasp, eyes flying open in the darkness. For a few moments, he laid there, collecting himself, letting his eyes adjust to the dim. He felt wet all over, still soaked with tea… No, he concluded, rolling onto his back slowly. Sweat. A cold sweat. He sighed, running a hand wearily over his face. Right.

It had been years since Cody’d had that nightmare. It used to plague him for weeks at a time, reoccurring in almost the exact same manner. Always on Kamino, always him and Obi-Wan drowning in tea. Cody stared up into the blackness, letting his heartbeat slow back down to a normal pace. He wasn’t on Kamino. He was on Tatooine, in a dodgy inn in Mos Eisley.

Sitting up, Cody chucked off his shirt, tossing it to the floor. The cool desert air prickled at his skin, a welcome relief from the heat of his blanket. He wanted to rinse off, but the inn didn’t even have a kriffing shower. He tugged the blankets away from his legs and stood, bare feet pressing solidly against the stone floor. Bits of sand stick to his soles, scratching lightly to remind him that he’s still there. Shivering, Cody walked over to the tiny window, staring out. The large single Tatooine moon glowed starkly in the desert sky, illuminating the empty street below. A shadowed figured crossed under a street light, moving quickly and quietly. It skulks more than walks, but it still reminds Cody of other cloaked figures who he’d known. He crossed his arms, sweat long dried on his skin. The nightmare feels long behind him now, a memory from another time in his life.

It had been six months of this. Of banthashit inns and dark night skies, sometimes with one moon, sometimes with three. Every night, a little bit closer. Cody could feel it now. He had a more solid lead than he’d ever had before, more than the time on Dantooine, more than the time on Endor. Somehow, somewhere on this dusty Maker-forsaken planet, Obi-Wan Kenobi was here.

And Cody was going to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr at mxartbotboy, come say hi!


	5. Rest and Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Night out; relaxation

It was just starting to get dark out when Cody stepped into the wide paved walkway just outside the clone barracks. The air had a slight chill to it, like it always did in the winter season, and Cody pulled off his helmet to feel the fresh air on his face. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. The air was smaugy, like it always was on Coruscant, but a nice change from the recycled air his helmet pumped through.

“Sir?”

Cody opened his eyes and glanced over at Sixty, who had stepped out beside him, a tilt to his visor. Waving his hand, Cody shook his head and started down the walkway, “Come on, we should get going. I’m pretty sure everyone is there already.”

Walking in easy silence, Cody and Sixty started in the direction of 79s. The walkway was mostly empty, not usually filled like the other streets of Coruscant were with civilians. A few troopers here and there walked in twos and threes, and Cody and Sixty nodded amiably at them as they passed. On one side rose a tall wall that lined down the walkway, separating the barracks from the rest of the city. Over it, Cody could see the tops of buildings and further up, the lines of space traffic criss crossing through the sky. It wasn’t the most beautiful part of Coruscant by any means, but there was a relaxed energy to the walkway here that Cody hardly felt anywhere else.

“So, sir,” Sixty started, still looking straight ahead, “Get up to anything today?”

Cody shrugged, “Oh, you know, work. As per the usual.”

Sixty turned his helmet onto Cody, “Only work?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cody didn’t like this line of questioning, and he liked it even less when Sixty tugged his bucket off to grin widely at Cody.

“Well it’s just that Lowball saw General Kenobi hanging around the barracks earlier and we were just wondering–”

“We met up to get some food.” Cody turned his gaze straight ahead, his voice clipped, “That’s all, if that satisfies you nosy Nemoidians.” Cody, of course, knew what Falcon Squad, and probably what most of Ghost Company, thought of him and the General. Some days, it seemedlike they were more sure of what was going on between him and Obi-Wan than Cody was, but it didn’t seem useful to dwell on it. Sixty, as good a sergeant as he was, was also an awful gossip, and Cody strongly suspected at least some kind of betting pool that the trooper was running, which explained the interest in Obi-Wan meeting him earlier that day. Cody did his best not to feed into it, though, much to the chagrin of Falcon Squad.

Sixty merely chuckled and tucked his helmet under his arm, “If you say so, sir.”

Further down the walkway, it was brighter, the edge of the barracks disappearing into the multitudes of winding streets and buildings that spread out into the city. It was darker now, and the streetlights had flickered on to spill golden light across the pavement, intermingling with light from shop and food stop windows. Sixty’s eyes lit up, and he began to veer to the side, “Wait, I wanted to stop at the tuck shop, you mind sir?”

Sighing, Cody followed Sixty as he walked up to the commissary, the overhead light of the open street vendor a more garish white hue. Standing behind the counter was an older clone who gave a wide smile as the two troopers approached. “Evening, _vod_ ,” he called out, resting his hands on the counter, “What’ll it be tonight?”

“Evening Stix.” Sixty set his helmet down and squinted up at the array of items hanging or shelved on the back wall. As far as a commissary went, this one wasn’t as stocked as the larger one located within the barracks or some of the larger Republic bases, but it was a common stop for most of the Clones, and Stix was a more recognizable face along the walkway. Generally, he managed to keep the necessities available, as well as a few choice popular recreational items, which Cody assumed was why they had stopped.

Nodding at him over Sixty’s shoulder, Stix gave a faux salute, “Commander Cody, sir.”

“Keeping busy?” Cody asked, wandering up next to Sixty, who was still deciding what he wanted.

“Oh, as ever. You 212th boys are the first to drop in here for a while, so it’s nice to see some familiar faces.” He snickered at his own joke and Cody gave an obligatory smile. Some clone humour was of a particular brand, and much more up the alley of the likes of Torrent Company than it was for Cody. But he knew the clone was just being friendly, probably starved for contact if it had been a longer stint between battalion stopovers.

Jerking his head back, Stix raised an eyebrow, “You getting anything yourself?”

Cody shook his head, “Not this time, Stix. We got places to be. Speaking of,” he rapped hard on Sixty’s pauldron, “We’re late enough as it is, hurry it up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sixty waved him off, straightening, “I think I’ll just take a couple of cafpaks.”

“Coming right up.”

As Stix busied himself fetching the merchandise, Sixty dug around in his utility belt, fumbling in one of his pouches. Cody rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me you conveniently left your chitcard in your bunk.”

“ _Nar’sheb_ ,” Sixty muttered under his breath and then jerked his head up suddenly, eyes wide, “Sir, I mean-”

Cody couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face at the panicked look of the sergeant. He and his men were close, but there was always that distance they kept between them and him, and it was entertaining to see them accidentally close it. When they were off-duty like this, Cody cared little and instead would feel a bit pleased that his troopers had the bravery to tell him to shove off.

A look of relief filled Sixty’s face and he smiled back, turning his attention down to his pouch, “Kriff it, I only have a couple of chits in here.”

With a heavy sigh, Cody readjusted his grip on his helmet so he could pull out his own chitcard and slide it across the counter to Stix, “Don’t worry about it, _vod_. What’re you carrying around loose chits for anyways?”

“Uh,” Sixty replied intelligently, which was code for _something he shouldn’t be doing_. Clones didn’t carry around the Republic issued clone tokens unless they had a reason; all commissaries took chitcards and it was easier than carrying around a pouch of the things which you could easily lose. Deciding to not press it, Cody took back his chitcard from Stix and slipped it into his utility belt.

“ _Ret’_.” Sixty took the two cafpaks from Stix and tucked one away, leaving the other in his hand, “Have a good night.”

“And you,” Stix waggled his eyebrows, “Don’t get up to too much trouble tonight, boys.”

“Wouldn’t count on it,” Cody replied with a smile, before grabbing Sixty’s arm and tugging him away from the stall, who just managed to swipe his helmet off of the counter, “Come on Sergeant they’ll be half drunk under the table before we get there.”

“Keen aren’t we sir?” Sixty popped one of the dark tablets from the cafpak and held it out to Cody. He shook his head and Sixty shrugged before slipping it into his mouth with a sigh, “Stix always has the best cafpaks.”

“Don’t know how you can take those, they make me too jittery.”

Sixty nudged Cody with his elbow, “It’s cause you’re too on edge. They’re supposed to take the edge _off_ , if you don’t mind me saying.”

“I can relax without those caf flavoured death pods. You don’t know what they put in those,” Cody shot back. Sixty just shrugged him off and slipped the cafpak away for later. They spent the rest of the walk chatting lightly back and forth as the sun dipped below the sky line and the city really lit up. They could see the neon glow from 79s as they rounded the corner, the platform much busier now. It was full of mostly 212th and troopers from the Coruscant Guard, milling around as they got a breath of fresh air or smoked a cigarro. Making their way inside, Cody scanned the bar until he saw a booth in the back filled with the men he was looking for.

“Cody!” Rex called out, pushing his chair back and standing when he saw them, “ _Vod_ , it’s good to see you!” Cody clasped his forearm tightly with a grin, happy to see his _vod’ika_. Torrent wasn’t planetside at the moment, but Rex had commed him to let him know Skywalker was bringing him and a couple other clones to Coruscant for the ever intangible reason of “Jedi business”, and wanted to meet up for drinks. Of course, as soon as Sixty had got wind of it, he had promptly invited himself along and any other Falcon Squad members who wanted to go. They had declined at the glare hovering over Sixty’s shoulder. Cody minded it less when Rex told him that Fives and Echo would be joining, and so had begrudgingly agreed to take Sixty along that morning.

Sixty walked around the backs of Fives and Echo, slapping them each on the shoulder, “Good to see you boys. Fives.”

“Six,” Fives greeted back, as they customarily did and Echo rolled his eyes as Sixty scooted in next to him. A few half drunk glasses of ale sat on the table, mixed in with blue painted buckets. Sixty grabbed one of them and took a swig, much to Echo’s annoyance.

“Hey, get your own drink!”

“Lost my chitcard.” Sixty grinned at Echo, who snatched back his glass with a glare.

Fives snickered and took a sip from his own glass, “Convenient.”

“It’s true!”

“Alright _vod_ , this round’s on me,” Rex interjected, amusement lacing his tone, “We’ll be right back, you freeloader.”

Cody just managed to drop his helmet on the table before Rex was snagging his elbow, pulling him towards the bar, “Come on, help me with the drinks.” They wove their way through the busy establishment, sidestepping a couple of already drunk Coruscant Guards. One of them bumped against Cody, who steadied the trooper with a firm hand and turned him in the direction of his friend. “ _Ret’, vod_ ,” he slurred, stumbling off into the friendly hold of his companion.

Shaking his head, Cody stepped up next to Rex, who was leaning forward and waiting for the barkeep to come back down to their end, “Don’t ever let me get that drunk.”

“Not here, anyways.”

Cody didn’t have a chance to reply before the barkeep came up, taking Rex’s order of five ales. “Put it on my tab, will you?” he asked with a charming smile, no doubt picked up from the bad influence that was General Skywalker. The gruff bearded clone gave him a hard look before turning to fill the glasses.

“So,” Cody said, turning and leaning back on the counter, “Jedi business, huh?”

“Kriff if I know, we’re just accompanying Skywalker and Tano. They’ve been up at the Temple ever since we landed yesterday.” Rex gave him a side glance, “You look tired.”

It was tiring just hearing that comment, but Cody knew his brother meant well. He worried just as much about Rex, who he didn’t get to see nearly as often as he liked. The fact that they were able to be out like this and see each other outside of a military zone was a Maker-brought miracle, practically. Cody shrugged, “Past couple campaigns have been tough on everyone.”

“The General isn’t running you too ragged?”

“Oh, no,” Cody shook his head, “Obi-Wan always takes on too much himself.”

Rex raised a single eyebrow, his mouth quirking up, “Obi-Wan, huh?”

“I mean–” Cursing himself for the name slip, Cody scrubbed a hand across his face and then glared when Rex’s smirk only intensified, “You know what I mean.”

“No, I really don’t. Please, _elaborate_.” Rex leaned in closer with an expectant look. It set Cody’s nerves on edge and he closed the distance, narrowing his eyes.

“We’ve talked about this, Rex.” A knot of something confusing and hard had formed in the pit of Cody’s stomach, and he did his best to push it down. It must have shown on his face, because the corners of Rex’s eyes softened in understanding. He was probably the only one who really knew the true depth of how Cody felt about his General, after much coaxing on his part, and knew that it wasn’t easy for him.

Rex straightened up, “Just thought something had changed, is all.”

“It’s never going to _change_ , Rex. It is what it is.”

The clone captain looked like he wanted to say more, but they were interrupted by the appearance of their drinks. Rex gave a quick nod to the barkeep before resting a hand on Cody’s shoulder, “Just try to enjoy yourself tonight, eh? And let’s see how drunk we can get Echo, Fives and I have a bet.”

Cody sighed, “Of course you do.”

They scooped up the glasses and brought them back over to the booth, divvying them up as Fives and a reluctant Echo chugged the rest of their first drinks. Cody sat down in the booth next to Sixty, claiming one of the glasses and wrapping his hands around it. Before Rex sat down, he lifted his own glass with a smile.

“Cheers to some of my favourite _vod_.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Fives chimed in and they all closed their glasses together, the clink mixing in with the background of 79s. The ale was pleasantly cold when Cody drank. Yeasty and sweet, the brand was popular amongst the clones, for it’s drinkability and affordability. Fives immediately challenged Echo to drink half his glass, who adamantly refused, and Sixty joined in, betting he could finish his drink first.

The rest of the evening passed amiably, filled with poor Echo getting progressively drunker and drunker, with Sixty close behind– how he managed without paying a single chit was a skill Cody couldn’t fathom. Cody himself just sat back and watched, exchanging amused glances with Rex occasionally as he felt the buzz from a couple glasses ale settle into his senses. This is what he had missed. Time with some of his closest _vode_ , just shooting the breeze and really letting up. He could laugh, he could smile, and he could forget for a night they were fighting an endless war. Just for a night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr at mxartbotboy, come say hi!


	6. AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Force-sensitive Cody

“You’re thinking too loudly.”

Cody creased his brows, pressing his eyes together tighter, “Well maybe stop _reading my mind_ , sir.”

“You know that’s not how the Force works, my dear.” Amusement brimmed brightly through the Force, much to Cody’s annoyance. He shifted, trying to readjust himself on the meditation mat. Even though he had stripped down to his blacks, the cross legged position he was in was still uncomfortable and unfamiliar. His frustration must have projected, because Obi-Wan gave a small sigh, “Cody, you have to relax for this to work.”

“I’m trying,” Cody snapped, eyes flying open. Hands clenched into fists on his knees, he immediately regretted the words, shoulders sagging. Obi-Wan merely tilted his head and Cody felt something soothe through him, gently brushing at the fringes of his consciousness. There was a worried expression on Obi-Wan’s face and Cody hated it, hated that he had to sit here and try to kriffing meditate. The whole activity seemed contrary to Cody’s very existence, which is why he supposed he needed to learn it in the first place.

Cody hadn’t asked to be like this. Sensing people when they approached, feeling their emotions roiling in some invisible tangle around them, reflexes that seemed almost faster than what they were reacting to. Since he was a cadet, since before he could remember, Cody had felt these things. He didn’t have a name for it, other than that it was different from the other clones. And like a good clone, Cody had learned to keep his mouth shut and ignore the feelings as best he could. These feelings, whatever they were, certainly helped him in training and his relationships with his brothers. They would often come to him for advice, to talk. To them, Cody was just especially empathetic, not realizing just how much Cody actually could feel what they were feeling. The feelings, he had no question, are what had propelled him to the top, leaving a bitter taste of guilt in his mouth when he was promoted to Commander Class before even leaving Kamino. By the time he was deployed, though, Cody had fallen into some kind of cohabitance with it, and his thoughts about whatever-it-was that he felt quickly fell to the back of his mind in favour of the war they were raised to fight.

It wasn’t until he was alone with Obi-Wan in his quarters one evening, a few months after Obi-Wan had been assigned to the Third Systems Army, when the Jedi placed his datapad down in his lap and asked, “Commander, are you aware that you’re Force sensitive?”

Cody had jerked his head up, nearly dropping the datapad in his hand. “Pardon… pardon me, sir?”

Looking perfectly composed, with one leg crossed over the other, Obi-Wan raised a single eyebrow. Doubt radiated off of him and Cody slowly put the datapad on the table between them, mind racing.

“Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally replied, refusing to meet Obi-Wan’s gaze.

Obi-Wan leaned forward, “I’m not going to report you, Commander. I’m simply… asking.”

Hating how Obi-Wan had clearly sensed his fear, Cody shifted tensely in his chair. Force sensitive? Was that was he had been feeling all this time? If that was true, of course Obi-Wan would be able to tell. Obi-Wan himself had a stronger, more present feeling than any of his brothers did, which Cody had chalked up to him being a Jedi. He didn’t realize that it might work the other way around, that he was in fact also tapping into the Force. It made his throat dry up and he swallowed before replying, “I never knew what it was but… I suppose that’s what it would be.” He looked up at Obi-Wan, “Sir, will it be a problem?”

Crossing an arm across his chest, Obi-Wan lifted his other hand to stroke at his beard, “I don’t believe so, Commander, although I’m surprised you’ve gone so long without anyone noticing.” He gave a small smile, “You’re very unguarded.”

“Unguarded?”

Obi-Wan waved his hand, “Oh, you know, mental barriers and so forth. I’m afraid you project rather strongly.”

The realization that Obi-Wan had likely been able to sense everything he had been feeling over the past few months sent heat crawling up the back of his spine. Every disagreement, every bitten tongue, every… unbecoming thought. Dear Maker, Cody was in trouble. He already knew he was in trouble when he caught himself daydreaming about Obi-Wan’s eyes more times than he could count, but at the thought that he had been _projecting_ that had Cody practically withering. He had tried very hard to not let himself develop feelings for Obi-Wan, including spending a solid three cycles focussing exclusively on every single thing about the Jedi that annoyed or frustrated him. To his distress, he just found his feelings unchanged and with the certainty that he liked him despite everything that bothered Cody.

Whether Obi-Wan actually knew or not, he didn’t let on in that moment. Instead, his fingers returned thoughtfully to his beard, running through the reddish hairs as the silence stretched out. Finally, Cody cleared his throat, “Sir, if there’s going to be an issue here–”

“I told you, my dear, it won’t be a problem.” Obi-Wan grinned and Cody’s stomach flip flopped, “I think it would be best if I teach you some things first, though.”

And that was how Cody found himself sitting on Obi-Wan’s meditation mat, desperately trying to find some sort of peace to quiet his ever busy mind.

“Here, let’s see if this will help.” Obi-Wan had been kneeling in front of him, but he quickly moved into a cross legged position, mirroring Cody and pressing their knees together. Cody felt his chest tighten at the sudden contact, even more so when Obi-Wan placed his hands over Cody’s clenched fists, “Close you eyes, please.”

Cody did, trying very hard not to think about how close Obi-Wan was, or how his skin felt cool and smooth over his knuckles. He suddenly felt very bare, and an inkling of nerves began forming, crawling through him as a reminder that he was very much out of his depth.

“I’m going to try something. You might feel it, though, so please don’t be alarmed.” Obi-Wan’s voice was gentle and Cody settled, trying to focus on his breath like he had first been instructed. It was slow, at first, but eventually Cody could feel it, the curl of something cool and clear circling at the edges of his mind. His instinct was to resist, and he felt himself tensing up again, but Obi-Wan gave a soft pat to one of his hands, “That’s just me Cody, please relax.”

Taking in a deep breath, Cody rolled his shoulders back and settled. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do, so he just let Obi-Wan’s presence grow stronger, wrapping around him and pulsing gently. It was strange to have something so foreign mixing in with his thoughts and Cody frowned. Obi-Wan’s hands squeezed his and the presence in his mind gave a small push, as if to shush Cody. His lips quirked just the slightest and a pleased feeling briefly rolled through him from Obi-Wan.

“Just try to focus on the feeling of it,” Obi-Wan said quietly, “And keep breathing.”

Cody _was_ breathing. In fact, he was doing everything he could to try and keep his breathing even and steady. The presence in his mind had a familiar flavour of Obi-Wan to it, like he was tasting something he had only previously smelled for the first time. It was a bit heady and while he was definitely relaxing, he found himself fixating on the feeling of it, how similar the coolness was to Obi-Wan’s hands, touching his knuckles, touching his wrists, touching his arms, touching–

Before Cody realized what he was doing, he pulled Obi-Wan’s presence closer. Sucked it in, like wrapping his arms around it, bringing it close to almost intermingle. It felt natural, soothing, and unexpectedly, Obi-Wan’s presence shivered, vibrating through Cody like a pleasant hum. Letting his hands fall open, Obi-Wan’s palms pressed naturally to his, and something much more powerful and bright shot up Cody’s arms like lightning. He sucked in a breath, yanking his hands away abruptly as his eyes flew open. Obi-Wan keened forward, catching himself on his own knees with a small gasp as their connection was broken.

A few seconds passed in silence as the both of them caught their breath. When Obi-Wan looked up, his eyes were wide and his cheeks were pink. “My apologies,” he said, straightening, “It’s been a while since I’ve worked with an, er, untrained mind.”

“Ah, no problem, sir.” Cody scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “Sorry about that.”

“No, no need.” Cody didn’t miss how Obi-Wan shifted back so they were no longer touching, Obi-Wan resettling a few centimetres apart, “Perhaps we’ll wait a bit until we try that again.”

Again? Cody couldn’t imagine trying something like that again, but he didn’t voice his concern. Instead, he dropped his hands to his knees again and closed his eyes. Time to try again.

“Breathe.” Obi-Wan instructed, and Cody did, the memory of Obi-Wan’s presence wrapped around him filling his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr at mxartbotboy, come say hi!


	7. Missing Perspectives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: post-Umbara

Datapads were strewn across the tiny table, nearly completely covering the surface. The only space that wasn’t covered held Cody’s helmet, removed hours ago as he tried to make his way through these reports. He stared down, the words muddling together on the screens. They glowed up at him, taunting; words he didn’t want to read. A headache was crawling up the back of his neck and he couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. With a sigh, he rested his elbows on the table, pushing aside the corners of some of the datapads and put his face in his hands, letting the darkness envelope his vision.

The darkness was brief, though, before his vision was filled with something else; Boil, stock still and staring straight ahead, eyes glazed and distant. Cody’s stomach turned again, remembering woodenly spitting out the words, trying to hold it together as best he could. They lost brothers all the time, lost them every day, but this…

This was something none of them had been prepared to face.

Cody lifted his eyes. He searched for the Commander mindset he used on rough days, tried to find that distance and professionalism that had gotten him through so much, but somehow it felt out of his grasp. Right now he was just another clone, another _man_ , desperately replaying those last words spoken to a friend now passed.

_We have reports of the Umbarans disguising themselves in clone armour. Stay sharp, Lieutenant._

_Will do, Commander. We’ll show ‘em what it means when they mess with us clones._

_Copy that. Happy hunting._

Happy hunting. It had quickly turned from a hunt to a slaughter of the worst kind, brother turning on brother in such a terrible, unknowing way. Cody’s throat clenched and he scrubbed his hands over his face. No, this wasn’t helping. Grabbing his helmet and slipping it on, Cody pushed back from the table and stood. He’d been here for hours; he needed to move.

Leaving his quarters, Cody made his way quietly through the halls of _The Negotiator_. It was late and so they were empty. Blissfully– Cody didn’t know how he’d handle looking at another brother in the eyes right now. At first, he wandered, letting his feet take him through doors and around corners without rhyme or reason. He didn’t want to think, just walk. He walked and walked, letting his mind remain blank and unoccupied until he stopped in front of a double set of doors with a small plaque that read ‘Viewing Gallery’.

Cody stepped through, the doors sliding closed behind him with a hiss. The lights had been turned off, so the gallery was dim, only lit by the glow of Umbara’s distant sun and the stars through the transparisteel wall that lined one whole side of the room. Walking forward, Cody stopped in front of the pane and pulled off his helmet, tucking it under his arm.

From here, Umbara just looked like another planet. Just another planet orbiting just another star in a sea of them. Cody blinked his eyes rapidly. Waxer had always said he would visit as many stars as he could when the war was over. “They’re like us,” he’d said, “From a distance they all look the same, but every one is different. Every single one. And I’m gonna do what the natborns don’t bother with us.” A grin, that classic Waxer one when he was planning, “I’m gonna get to know them.”

The quiet sound of the gallery door opening made Cody jump, tearing his thoughts away from the lieutenant and whipping around. White armour a stark contrast to the dim, a clone trooper stood at the entrance, frozen and clearly unsure of finding someone else in the gallery.

“Sorry, I didn’t–” The trooper tensed. He must have recognized Cody’s armour, because he immediately snapped to attention, “Apologies, sir, I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Cody waved a hand, “At ease, _vod_.”

The trooper relaxed, although he still seemed uncertain of what to do with himself. Carefully, he walked up to the transparisteel, keeping a decent distance between himself and Cody. A few moments passed in silence, the two of them watching the starscape. Cody glanced over; there were no markings on the troopers armour and from what he could tell, little marks at all. A shiny. As shiny as they came.

“What has you up and about at this time, trooper?” Cody asked. He could suspect as much, but he still felt like he should reach out. Cody couldn’t even begin to imagine how a shiny was taking this.

Shrugging, the trooper linked his hands behind his back, “Couldn’t sleep, sir.”

Cody nodded, “Understandable.” He could feel the trooper’s eyes on him, but he looked back to the starscape. Understandable didn’t even begin to cover it, but it felt as if it were all he could say.

Shifting, the trooper moved his hands to pull off his helmet, “I remember when I first discovered the viewing galley. Don’t have anything like it on Kamino.” At this, Cody did look over. The trooper had a faraway look in his eyes, the specks of stars reflected in his pupils. Cody didn’t want to think about how familiar that look was. It wasn’t just Waxer; so many clones looked like that, their minds dreaming of something greater and more fulfilling than war. Sometimes it was looking at sunsets, sometimes it was looking at stars, but it was all the same.

“They certainly don’t,” Cody replied, voice thick. He swallowed, before continuing, “I remember my first time up in a ship. First time realizing there’s a whole wide galaxy out there.”

“There sure is, sir.”

Readjusting his grip on his helmet, Cody turned to face him, “You have a name, trooper?”

The trooper shook his head, “Not yet, sir. Been thinking about…” he paused, clearly unsure if he should share or not, before setting his shoulders and continuing, “Been thinking about Waner, sir. Like the waxing and waning of a moon.”

Cody started, the word _waxing_ ringing heavily in his ears. “Why– why Waner?”

The trooper shrugged, “I always thought it looked like a moon was smiling down on us when it was waning. Seemed like good luck to me. Besides,” he glanced over with a small smile, “I don’t seem like much of a Waxer, I don’t think.”

At that, Cody clenched his hand on his helmet. He could almost hear Waxer laughing now, rapping his knuckles on Cody’s pauldron like he always would.

_Look at this kid, huh? Knows who the real Waxer is, don’t he?_

“It’s a good name,” Cody finally said, gruff and short as he slipped his helmet back on, “Have a good night, trooper.”

“Night, sir.”

Cody turned on his heel and left the trooper, emerging back into the bright lights of the hall. For a moment, he stood completely still, the gallery doors closed behind him, curling and uncurling his hands into fists. He didn’t feel much better, but he felt more focussed. Like he was able to take the persona of Commander and put it on.

 _Like the stars_ , Cody thought, starting off down the hall. _Nothing but stars_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all seven days! I had a really fun time writing for Cody this week and finally jumping into writing for TCW. Thanks all so much for reading!
> 
> find me on tumblr at mxartbotboy, come say hi!
> 
> And are you queer and want a place to talk about Star Wars? Join the Star Queers Discord server.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Nothing but Stars - Origins](https://archiveofourown.org/works/30064179) by [FavoriteGinger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FavoriteGinger/pseuds/FavoriteGinger)




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